Ramsay's no slouch when it comes to the theology or the comedy. He may not be a household name, but he's certainly successful in the comedy world. He's not likely to be a household name in the (generally stuffy) theology world either, but he's done his homework. (Check out the footnotes that range from real citations to absurd throwaway lines.) He admits some readers will find him too fundamentalist for their liking, but he makes no apology for that. He wants his readers to stop waffling around and think seriously about God, Christ, life, good and evil. And sin. And Muslims.

He calls himself a nuevo fundamentalist, and reactionary, and even more insulting things, and he struggles a great deal with the loose (postmodern) theology propounded by what's known broadly as the emerging or emergent Church, even tackling such high priests of that movement as Brian McLaren. Not that he throws them out completely - he just wants you to throw Brian's books at something your mother-in-law insisted on giving you.

Ramsay is the jester in the King's Court. By appearing to be making jokes and only jokes, he can stab you in the back with a serious point while you're not looking. Well, you wouldn't be looking - you'd have your back turned. As he writes at the beginning of chapter 8: “It's a comedian's job to say what everyone else is thinking but is afraid to say. Comedy should have some guts.”

In case you think this will be one of those books where the comedian has just written down his stage act - it isn't. It reads very well on the page, even if the jokes sometimes come so thick and fast you have to stop to breathe. Theology can be a dull subject in the hands of (non-comedic) theologians. It's refreshing to read a book on theology where you have to go in the other room so that your bursts of laughter don't keep making the dog bark.